The Assassin
by ObsydianDreamer
Summary: Things aren't always what they appear to be. For instance, the nations who knew about the ancient war all thought that Southern Italy, AKA Romano, was a Templar. They were wrong.


AN: This is what happens when a Hetalia fan decides to play Assassin's Creed II... Thanks to OzzieLiber-Tea for beta-ing and Sniisawesome for overlooking this oneshot.

Also, the first Official Story in the _Everlasting Stars_ Universe!

Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed or Axis Powers Hetalia.

**The Assassin**

By ObsydianDreamer

* * *

_Rome, 1790_

As he climbed the last few flights of stairs to the top of the bell tower, Romano started to feel just a little bit uneasy.

Not that he'd ever admit to it, of course.

It was the night of his initiation into the Brotherhood of Assassins. Once the ceremony was finished, he'd be a fully-fledged member, and a part of the Brotherhood for rest of his life.

For the past century, he'd been helping the Assassins in their missions against the Templars. At first, he'd supplied them with little pieces of information; the locations of Templar hideouts or the identities of corrupt officials who had turned to the Templar cause. His role as the personification of Southern Italy helped immensely, with very little occurring in his country without him knowing about it.

But as time went by, he became more and more drawn in to the Assassin cause. For the last decade, Romano had been actively training with the Order, going on hit missions and learning to track down and kill his target.

It was a set of skills he quickly proved himself experienced and accomplished in. And now, after so many years of work, he was about to officially join the Brotherhood as an Assassin.

As he reached the very top of the bell tower, Romano paused for a moment to calm himself before entering the room.

Stepping in, he felt the atmosphere change.

A feeling of anticipation and expectation hung in the air, making the room feel smaller. The assembled group of men and women, all of whom were initiated Assassins themselves were deathly quiet, all watching him intently.

Romano kept walking forward, trying his best to not become unnerved.

He'd trained for this, dammit. He wasn't about to pike just because he was getting an eerie vibe.

A brazier stood in the centre of the room, the coals within burning cherry red. Next to it was the Mentor, the leader of the Assassins, standing regally. He was a wiry man of about fifty years, past his physical prime but still wise.

As Romano came to a stop in front of the Mentor, he could feel the intense heat of the brazier beside him.

The Mentor regarded him for a moment, before speaking.

"You, Lovino Vargas, have proved yourself worthy of joining the Brotherhood," the Mentor proclaimed. "Where other men blindly follow the truth, remember..."

"Nothing is true," Romano stated, reciting their creed.

"Where other men are limited by morality or law, remember..."

"Everything is permitted."

The last line was chorused by the entire group present. "We work in the dark to serve the light. We are Assassins."

"We are Assassins," Romano echoed, mostly to himself. Glancing over at the brazier, he decided that he was not going to enjoy what was about to happen next.

Nevertheless, when the Mentor gestured for his left hand, he reached over without hesitation. As one of the Assassins pulled the branding tongs out of the brazier, Romano turned away, and gritted his teeth.

The pain was searing, but not unbearable for the nation. He'd dealt with worse before, and he knew pain worse than that was almost a certainty in his future. A few moments later, the pressure and heat was gone, and Romano pulled his hand back and muttered curses under his breath.

"You are one of us now," the Mentor announced. "Welcome to the Brotherhood, Lovino Vargas." The Mentor took a step back and gestured toward the edge of the tower.

Romano didn't need to be told twice. Striding towards the ledge, he stopped right on the edge of the building. A light breeze stirred the air, and he looked down. It was a tall tower, but he could make out the simple shape of a hay cart below.

Romano took a steadying breath, and leapt.

0-0-0-0-0-0

_Rome, 1990_

As he sat on the balcony of an old roman building, Romano watched the sun set.

It was late evening on a warm summer's night, and the last of the sun's rays were disappearing below the horizon, coating the sky in a vibrant array of red and orange.

In Romano's opinion, it was turning into the perfect night to kill someone.

Crouching on a rooftop, he waited patiently for the target's car, pulling his hood down to block out the sharp rays of dying sunlight. The Assassin's uniform had changed and been modernised over the years; the traditional white uniform had become too recognisable to the Templars. Instead, Romano wore a fitted black trench coat with a hood, along with a white undershirt and a red belt with loose black pants and leather boots.

As for weapons, Romano preferred to use a blend of old and new. He had a handgun, but also carried a set of delicately crafted throwing knives, smoke bombs and his own hidden blade.

Just as the sun had set, the target car drove past underneath his vantage point. He began to pursue it, taking care to remain unseen as he jumped between rooftops.

As he ran, his mind wandered back to the vow he'd made almost two hundred years earlier, when he'd been formally accepted into the Order. It was one of the few times in his life where he'd felt like he belonged, and was possibly his greatest persona achievement.

Not that he could tell anyone about it, though. Very few of the nations knew of the ancient war between the Templars and the Assassins, and those who did thought him to be allied with the Templars. Rome may be the where the headquarters of the Templars was located, but just because he was the representative of the nation didn't mean he had to have anything to do with them.

As a general rule, nations were never supposed to become involved in issues that were independent of their countries. But if Eyebrows-Bastard could be a pirate in his glory days, why couldn't he be an Assassin? Anyway, most nations tended to ignore this rule, Romano reasoned, becoming involved in one thing or another.

"_Hypocritical bastards_," Romano thought. "_The whole group of them._"

His mind drifted from the other nations to his target as they arrived at the destination. It was a mansion, where a large party for the target was being hosted.

His target was a politician who had become corrupt, punishing the lower classes and letting the Templars get away with whatever they needed to. When it became apparent that the official was not going to change his ways, Romano spent the following months getting as much info on his whereabouts as possible, trying to find the place and time.

Tonight was the best possible night. The death of such a high-ranking official would send a strong message to the Templars, who would have been celebrating a recent victory over the Assassins.

A month earlier, the Templars had been successful in stealing the Sword of Eden from the Assassin base. Other Assassins were currently working on tracking it down, but the theft had left Romano angry, wanting proactive revenge.

On the ledge of a rooftop, Romano leapt across to the top of the mansion, before climbing down to a balcony using a plant-covered trellis. Peering in through the window to ensure it was clear; Romano eased open the windows, leaving them slightly open to ensure a quick escape route should he need one.

Good Assassins always had a backup plan.

Completely silent, he lowered himself into the dark and empty room. Light on his feet, he crept out to the hallway, double-checking to make sure it was deserted before making his way out. Slowly, he made his way through the mansion, carefully memorising the way he came in case he had to flee.

Before long, he reached the hall where the main party was being held. Hundreds of men and women in formal wear conversed with each other as uniformed servants moved around with platters of food.

Sticking to shadows and the darker corners of the hall, but also acting casually to avoid suspicion, Romano watched his target, waiting.

Finally, the moment came.

His heart rate increased ever so slightly as he walked forward toward the target; his every movement full of poise and confidence.

In moments, the man would be dead. He didn't even know that the next few seconds would be his last.

Within metres of the target, Romano slipped out his hidden blade, the metal making an audible _snick_.

He crossed the last few metres to the target in a run, leaping up, tackling the man to the ground and stabbing the blade straight into his heart.

Crimson blood poured out of the wound as the man's breaths became ragged.

"For all the crimes you have committed, and were going to commit," Romano whispered to him. "Requiescat in pace."

And then it was over. The corrupt official took his last breath and stilled.

Romano had no time to linger. The people around him were shocked by the sudden death, and bodyguards were already moving toward him, trying to capture him. Dodging the armed men, Romano ran to the escape route he'd left. Speed was his gift, and Romano made the most of it, sprinting down the previously deserted corridors as bullets narrowly missed him from behind.

Reaching the room, he ducked inside, heading straight to the balcony. From there, he leapt across to the next building, climbing and pulling himself up to the roof.

From there, he knew he was safe. Despite the sounds of police sirens in the distance, Romano had too much skill in free-running across rooftops, many of which had been the same for centuries, for them to catch him. Soon, the thrill of the chase set in, spurring him on even faster.

0-0-0-0-0-0

A few hours later, as he relaxed at the Assassin safe house, all danger from the night gone, Romano had an epiphany.

For all his life, he believed himself inferior to Veneziano and lived in constant fear of one day disappearing all together.

In some ways, he still did.

But as fought for the Assassins and their ideals, bringing death to Templars and other who worked to enslave, Romano had never felt more purposeful or alive.

* * *

**AN: I've had this plot bunny bouncing around in my head since I decided to play Assassin's Creed II. I wanted one of the Italies to be an Assassin, but I just couldn't imagine Veneziano being a merciless killer. Romano, on the other hand, I think would make a good Assassin.**

**For the record, this fic will be staying as a oneshot. However, I will one day write more about Assassin Romano, so if you want to keep updated on that, follow me (the Author) instead of following this fic.**

**Anyway, as usual, any reviews/faves are greatly appreciated! They help inspire me to write and get better.**

**~ObsydianDreamer**


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